


Masquerade

by RelativelyFucked



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, No Smut, Slow Dancing, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 03:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17541929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RelativelyFucked/pseuds/RelativelyFucked
Summary: Aaron teaches Miles how to slow dance for a school dance.





	Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [verry (tokitovo)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokitovo/gifts).



> The first [song.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pNYkS78k11w)
> 
> For my angel 💕

Miles takes a nervous breath, in and out, one he really shouldn't need to calm down. It's Uncle Aaron. He's asked him for lots of advice before, too many times -girls, tagging, the best way to keep his dad off his back. He always gives Miles the answer he needs and tonight is no different.

"So, uh," Miles sinks back into the couch, makes his voice sound smaller, "There's this thing comin' up at school." He doesn't get an answer right away. Miles stares at his lap and hears the fridge open and close, glasses jingling together, and finally quiet footsteps coming back at him.

"A _thing,"_ his uncle finally echoes. He tosses a can of soda at Miles who scrambles to grab it, and then Uncle Aaron opens his own as he sits down next to him. He's waiting for more, smiling through his first sip of Coke at his nephew.

"A dance."

Miles practically mumbles the words which gets him a chuckle, but it's rich. It's anything but teasing. If Miles didn't know any better, he'd think his uncle already heard about it.

"It your first one?" Uncle Aaron sets his can down and leans his elbow on the back of the couch, hand against his head. He tells himself again not to be so damn nervous. His uncle knows everything, _anything._ He probably went to a dozen dances in high school alone and was named the King in every one. He's magic. He'd be so intimidating if Miles hadn't known him his whole life, or been on the receiving end of his signature smiles. They make Miles feel big and small, all at once. "Yeah... yeah it is, and I-"

"Got a girl yet, Miles?"

"'Course I do," he blurts, and then sinks further into the cushions. "I mean, I know who I'm gonna ask." Miles stares down at his fingertips and presses them together in distraction. He doesn't want to talk about her. Thinking about it only stretches his embarrassment further; Uncle Aaron would have a dozen girls already, asking _him,_ and it's easy to see why. Miles' cheeks heat. His head stays down.

"See Miles, you're fine. Don't overthink it," his uncle replies, knowing too well how Miles gets stuck in his own head. He takes another sip of his Coke while Miles taps on his own can, pouting his lip, building up the nerve to ask what he meant to. He finally takes a deep breath while his uncle hides amusement.

"Uncle Aaron?"

"Mm."

"I don't exactly uh, know how to dance."

Minor addition to that: he's never danced before in his life, not with a girl, and not alone in his room even when the beat feels right. Is that embarrassing? Uncle Aaron probably danced block to block, boombox on his shoulder, because that's just how he is with everything. He acts like the world owes him a favor, and he's probably right. Miles looks at his uncle like he's a superhero. Now, he's just looking at his uncle, hoping he'll teach his poor nephew to dance.

Miles feels a touch against his jaw then, intense and reassuring. He suddenly can't remember why he was worried at all. Uncle Aaron is looks down at him, tilting his head up by his chin to ask fondly, "Miles, you think I'd let you make a fool of yourself?"

He doesn't know how to reply because all at once his chest is spinning, winding him around and around in circles. It's dizzying. Miles makes a noise, a hum, and it's something he's never done before but it isn't wrong. Nothing feels _wrong_. His uncle strokes at his jaw like he's something precious, holds it tight until Miles shakes away his nerves and answers back firmly, "Never."

And when he smiles at Uncle Aaron it's easy; it's the easiest thing in the world.

It's never like this at home with his dad. Miles feels like he's interrogated for every little thing, criminalized. Every step he makes is the wrong one. Coming here is like a getaway vacation, Uncle Aaron's apartment is a straight shot down a couple blocks - a little left turn up the fire escape. Easy breezy. Miles tagged the railing at the bottom just because he could, and every time his hand curls around the sticker, he remembers why this is where he wants to be.

With Uncle Aaron, he just feels _important._

"So you'll teach me?"

His uncle responds by standing up and pressing down the red button on his boombox, skipping to a track number he must know from memory. He keeps it paused for another second. "Dancing to the fast beats - you don't need me for that, Miles. If it doesn't come to you, just fake it."

Uncle Aaron offers his hand as the music starts, slow piano and the taps of a heartbeat. Miles can't tell if his own heart beats louder because of it - maybe to match it like it's the very first step of learning how to dance. He keeps smiling, grab his uncle's wrist and pulls himself up. Miles isn't nervous anymore. Thinking is something he doesn't need in order to dance either, at least he knows that much. His chest is swirling while the first verse starts, and Uncle Aaron's hand is still wrapped around his forearm.

"Fake it?" Miles wonders. He's easy to read and can't tell lie without stumbling over it; he isn't sure he can fake anything.

His uncle laughs, "Don't look so scared, it's _easy._ Just follow the crowd. Hell, follow your girl."

Miles doesn't have a girl. He has his uncle, playing slow beats in his living room, nudging the coffee table aside so he has plenty of space to work with. Uncle Aaron doesn't seem to find any of this strange, and Miles guesses that it shouldn't be, it's not much of a stretch from the shoulder touch - from those memorized pick-up lines that only sound good in his uncle's voice. People gotta learn somehow. 

Uncle Aaron pulls him to the center of the room smoothly, like they've done this before and already have their rhythm down. Miles likes the music, feels the beat in his bones so easy they're moving already; maybe this'll go better than he expected. He just can't figure out why his cheeks are still burning.

"Now slow dancing, that's somethin' I can show you, Miles," Uncle Aaron promises him, voice lower than before. He's already swaying like it's in his blood, music magic. Their height difference should make this hard but Miles doesn't feel awkward, and maybe this is good practice. She's smaller than him too. At the dance there won't be any awkward eye contact, or bumping heads, instead it'll be like this: fitting together with cool beats and the echo effect of the verses.

Miles licks his lips and sucks the bottom one in, still not sure where to put his own hands. "I- I don't know how to start."

Uncle Aaron fixes it. He grabs Miles' hand and squeezes, dwarfing him, holding both their arms in the air together. "This might be a little old school," his uncle apologizes, like Miles would know any better. He's preoccupied trying to steady his breathing, to memorize how this goes so he doesn't stumble when he gets to the real thing. His uncle slides a hand around his shoulder, and then tells Miles to do the same back.

Were they so close before?

"Don't think, Miles. Just hold her like you don't wanna let go. Sway."

It's hard to keep his mind blank, but it's easy to hold on; he doesn't want to let go. It's warm and comfortable being so near. Uncle Aaron does this every time he has the chance - treats Miles like he's special, like no one has ever mattered more or deserved more. Miles leans closer because he's getting lost in this practice dance, and doesn't care how he looks doing it. The auditorium will be darker than this. He shuts his eyes and realizes how much swaying feels like breathing, and how the music keeps breathing back. His ears catch the melody as he presses his forehead against his uncle's chest, fists the back of his shirt to hold more.

"You're doing perfect. You're perfect, Miles."

Uncle Aaron starts stepping instead of just rocking, but it's easy to follow his lead now. Miles thinks he could do it himself. The track changed too but it's the same kind of sound to follow - those muted beats in his chest.

"I think I got it," he says, a little surprised.  Uncle Aaron squeezes his hand in reply and Miles meets his eyes for the first time since starting. He expected them to be wrinkled in a smile, or maybe filled with cheeky pride, but instead they're just taking him in. Setting his cheeks on fire. Miles is left with butterflies, he's never seen Uncle Aaron look so intense, with his jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed.

Before Miles can ask what's wrong, the hand on his back slides down a few inches, and then a few more. Uncle Aaron doesn't say a thing, just keeps his hand right there at the curve of his lower back, red hot. Digging in. Miles' stomach twists with a feeling he's never experienced before. It's like he's falling from a rooftop - or maybe just hanging, stomach dipping inside from the thrill of it.

"You good, Miles?" Uncle Aaron asks, but there's another question too, _want me to teach you more?_

Miles doesn't know what his _yes_  means, but he isn't scared. Uncle Aaron is good at this stuff. He knows the secrets, the things that'll get girls' hearts flying because Miles' is too.

He hears a rumble from his uncle's chest before he keeps going further. "You wanna keep her real close," he says, and shows him how. He tucks his long hand under the hem of Miles' shirt, and once it's on bare skin he pushes them together as close as they can be. There's barely any space between them anymore, and it's easy to see why this works as a move. It's deep. It gives the perfect excuse for Miles to wrap his arms around his Uncle's neck, because it feels like the right thing to do. It just feels right.

Uncle Aaron catches his eye and smiles, "You're doing good, you're a natural," he praises. His large hands slide to Miles' sides and it's hard not to notice them, how they fit in the little groove above his hip and pull him tight. If his uncle didn't want him to think, he's doing a good job making sure of it. Miles legs are shaking from his nerves. The pit of his stomach just keeps digging deeper.

The track skips again but it doesn't matter if it's slow or not. Miles can't even hear it. He's tuned in to his uncle humming along perfectly in tune, smooth and baritone, and it's all he needs to keep swaying. Miles' doubts swirl down the drain. He hopes his dance feels like this, even half as good as this.

"Uncle Aaron?" Miles suddenly wonders, not giving himself time to second guess. "What- what do I do if she goes for a kiss?" He thinks he should know how, just in case. It's a possibility, isn't it? Miles slips up his footing just thinking about it. Uncle Aaron smiles as he steadies himself, and pushes his thumbs into Miles' skin like you would something soft, something you want to feel like nothing else.

"Miles, look at me."

He does. He knows he's supposed to be picturing her face, sure, but how can he when his uncle is right in front of him? He's grown closer to Miles' than anyone else, even his own father. He's familiarity. Uncle Aaron's cologne is faint and musky but the same scent Miles has known all his life; he has the answer to every question, every problem. He makes Miles feel like he matters. When Uncle Aaron smiles it's something adoring, and proud, and electric.

At least when it's for Miles, it always is.

"You wanna kiss her?" Uncle Aaron asks, point blank. It's simple, isn't it, yes or no. When Miles looks up at his uncle, he wonders why it feels so complicated.

Miles gulps, "Yeah. I do."

Uncle Aaron hums and cups his jaw, tilts Miles' head up, just a little. "Wait for the end of the song. Hold her just like this, or-" He rests his fingers on the side of Miles' neck instead, takes even more control, _"-this."_

Miles doesn't move. He takes in shallow breaths, eyes wide like he's just some kid about to have his first kiss, right after his first slow dance. Maybe he wants to.

"She pretty?" Uncle Aaron asks.

Miles couldn't remember her face right now if he tried.

"Mhmm."

The song playing slows down, draws itself out with instrumentals. It's the end - was he waiting for it this whole time? Uncle Aaron smiles and leans down just enough, so that if Miles stood on his tiptoes, he could do it. _Right now._ His uncle's eyes suddenly look too dark, lips too full, and Miles can't turn back from him or  
sink away from him. Miles is staring up at him like a fool, realizing now that Uncle Aaron's smile isn't just electric. It's magnetic; it's wild.

He lifts himself on the tips of his toes - slowly because he's scared, he can't think. He doesn't want to. Miles closes his eyes and feels his uncle's hand on his neck, tense but tilting his head up still, and Miles can feel how close they are. It shouldn't make his skin tingle like this. He waits a second, five seconds, because this kiss isn't ever supposed to happen and Miles knows it. Uncle Aaron knows it.

They hold their lips a frantic inch apart and Miles wonders what it would mean to do it, really _do it._ Practice, right? This doesn't feel like practice anymore. His head shouldn't be spinning, and his palms shouldn't be sweating like he's slow dancing with his real date, a _pretty girl_. Miles tries so hard to think about her instead, so it'll make sense and his stomach stops dropping:

The slow songs come at the end of the dance, Miles knows this from movies. He imagines he's there and tuning out everything else but the two of them. Miles would close this distance in a second if it was _her_ \- easy. It's what he wants to happen. Her lips are soft and a little desperate, like she's done this before and knows what she wants. It's almost _controlling._ Miles hums in excitement, tightens his arms around her. Her nails push into his neck so that he gasps and gets a taste of her breath, spearmint and heat. His heart is flipping. He's never felt so warm, everywhere, all the way down in his abdomen like he's melting from the inside out. It's a first. Miles knows he's clumsy so he lets her lead, because it feels good when she does; she wants him. She wants _Miles._ Every touch she makes proves how much she does.

It's perfect, it's everything he wanted his first dance to be and the first kiss to follow.

Miles opens his eyes suddenly, and Uncle Aaron is pulling back and making a low noise of approval. His breaths are slow and heavy in Miles' face, minty fresh.

He blinks and feels like he missed something. His neck is hot, cheeks even hotter, and his uncle's voice is so different than before when he finally speaks; it's _deep._ It knows a secret.

"Just like that," Uncle Aaron praises. He swipes his thumb across Miles' lower lip even as it trembles, and it's too much. Miles bites it afterward to keep that little touch there, push it in with his teeth. He needs to _think_. It'll be easy to do as his uncle steps back, and easy to do with the room so quiet.

_Quiet?_

Miles hadn't even noticed, the boombox ran out of songs to dance to.


End file.
